


A method to his madness

by Halevetica



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Requested, Sweet Crowley, alternate church scene, consecrated ground
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 06:53:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halevetica/pseuds/Halevetica
Summary: Crowley gets buried in the rubble of consecrated ground.





	A method to his madness

Crowley wasn't stupid, he wasn't. Some people might disagree, but he always had a method to his madness, he just didn't always tell everyone what it was. Such as now. He was currently walking up to the doors of a church. It was not exactly somewhere a demon would be welcome, but there were no rules that said he couldn't enter. There was, however, the pain that accompanied walking on consecrated ground. It wasn't like the burning of holy water, thank the devil, but it still stung. Much like walking along the beach in bare feet. Unfortunately, shoes did not prevent the pain though it helped a bit.

The demon walked in and immediately started hopping. If he kept moving it wasn't so bad.

"Sir?" A nun approached Crowley with a concerned scowl.

"Hi, yes I'm here for Father Thomas," Crowley continued to hop. He attempted to lean against one of the pews but the sting in his hand made him let go immediately.

"Mr. Anthony Crowley, I presume?" A priest asked stepping out from one of the pews.

"That's me," Crowley held his hands out as he continued to dance.

"Are you alright?" The nun asked attempting to reach out to steady the demon.

Crowley, careful to avoid contact with her, hopped forward, "We spoke on the phone about the uh-"

"Yes, of course, follow me," The priest gestured for Crowley to follow him.

Crowley tossed a longing glance at the door. He would really rather not stay longer than necessary, but this was important.

"You said they would be cared for?" Father Thomas asked as Crowley followed him into the back room.

"Oh, most definitely," Crowley assured him, continuing to hop. He was curious as to why the priest hadn't questioned his hopping. Perhaps he knew he was a demon and just didn't care?

"Very well, it's important that they are kept safe. It's not safe here."

"Yes, and why is that again?"

"These are sacred, I don't want them in the wrong hands. They'll likely come for them."

Crowley frowned but before he could question him further, they stopped in front of an unmarked door.

"In here," The priest unlocked the door and opened it to reveal a small room.

"Here you are," The priest presented a stack tied in rope.

"Great, splendid," Crowley snagged the rope and before he could turn around a loud rumbling sounded and the ground beneath his skipping feet shook.

"What the-" A piercing scream interrupted, along with the sound of more rumbling. It grew louder and the ground shook harder knocking the priest and Crowley off their feet.

Next thing they knew a large tank was charging through the walls.

"They've come," the priest cried out.

Crowley grabbed the priest and dove out of the way as the tank continued barreling through. The walls crumbled around them toppling over Crowley and father Thomas.

The demon's skin began to burn as the rubble pressed him to the ground. He let out a hiss as the walls pressed down on him harder. Father Thomas had been knocked unconscious, but he was alive.

"Blasted Nazi's," He swore as his skin burned. He would feel the blisters starting to form.

He heard the German soldiers yelling and sifting through the broken walls of the church. They were after the package.

The shouting stopped suddenly and a wall lifted off of Crowley and the demon looked up to see a familiar face.

"Angel?" He blinked.

"Crowley, I thought that was your car out front," Aziraphale huffed. "What are you doing here? It's consecrated ground," He gave snap off his fingers and they were suddenly outside of the church. Father Thomas who was still unconscious was also with them.

"Oh that's a relief," Crowley sighed as his skin stopped burning. However, the blisters that had started forming still stung a bit.

"Crowley," Aziraphale grabbed the demon's left hand, the palm was bright red and several tiny blisters had bubbled up. "What were you thinking?"

"I had an appointment," Crowley said glancing at a nun who was now helping father Thomas to his feet.

"Whatever for?" Aziraphale asked, continuing to observe the blisters on his hand.

Crowley held up the roped package. "For you, angel."

Aziraphale frowned.

"The prophesies of Robert Nixon, Otwell Binns, Mother Shipton, etcetera. All first additions," Crowley handed to package to the angel.

Aziraphale's mouth dropped in surprise. "For me?"

"Who else am I gonna cross consecrated ground for, angel?" Crowley scoffed.

"Oh, my dear," Aziraphale took the books as if they were made of glass. "Why would you do something like this? You could have been killed." Aziraphale looked up, meeting the demon's eyes, his glasses were cracked and sat lopsided on his face.

"You go to great lengths for the ones you love," Crowley shrugged, pulling off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. He placed them back on his face despite their brokenness.

"What?" Aziraphale gaped at Crowley as if he'd just grown a second head, which honestly would have been less shocking than the words the demon had just uttered.

Aziraphale set the books down at his feet, taking Crowley's hands in his. A warmth washed over the demon as the redness and blisters faded from his skin.

"You love me?" Aziraphale asked, taking a partial step forward. Afraid that Crowley would flee if he moved too fast.

"Of course I do, angel, why else would I risk discorporation for you?" Crowley shrugged as if it was no big deal.

Aziraphale pulled the broken glasses from Crowley's face and pressed up on his toes. His lips ghosted the demon's gently.

Crowley froze in place. He had expected a rejection, not this.

"You-" He cut himself off.

Aziraphale only nodded, "But I suggest you keep this between us, we wouldn't want anyone to find out. Our sides would be furious."

Crowley only nodded in response.

So there was a method to his madness. What other people might call stupid or reckless, he called love.


End file.
